(This posting could be considered as the second part of the “Culture”
of my city of Peterborough… or it could be the “Christian Tourist”.)

As I entered the huge and very old building it took my breath
away. I was entering a very different world than the one that I am used to.
This was the Sacred Heart of Jesus Roman Catholic Church which stands at the corner
of Romaine and Aylmer in Peterborough.

This is hard to believe!
This stately church is in such a sharp contrast to the community that it
sits in. Everything about this place looks as if it should be in Roman or at
least in Quebec. It is too beautiful to be in old Peterborough. It is not like the St. Alphonsus Catholic Church
that I attended a week before Easter – which is much more modern.

I met the Pastor of this church one day when I was carving in my
Misty Hollow work shop. I was a little
startled when his voice said, “Good afternoon.”
I had turned to see a young priest and his bicycle just outside my
garage. His name was Father Ervens
Mengelle.

Fr. Ervens had found me on the Internet and came to ask about me
doing a carving for the church. It was
the beginning of a new friendship. He is a very interesting person to say the
least and a friend.

Yesterday I sat in the service that Fr. Ervens Mengelle
conducted. It was a powerful and
uplifting service for me. I specially thank the congregation that allowed a
complete stranger to attend their Mass… and welcomed me.

Why would I attend a Roman Catholic Church on a Sunday Morning –
as a Protestant, an Evangelical and a Pentecostal? What could ever get me into that kind of
place?

The answer was, I was looking to see if God was there ( there was a
couple of other reasons as well). Lots
of protestants and specially evangelicals flat out state that He isn’t
there. Sorry to have to tell my friends,
I found God there. I also found a large congregation of friendly and open
people worshipping it their own special way.

I left with a deep sense of having had something special happen in
me.

Next came a different kind of shock to my system.

I left the Roman Catholic service and then picked up my wife and
mother. We were headed to another evangelical
church… the Immanuel Alliance Church on Sherbrook Street.

Whoah – what a contrast to the senses.

Upon entering the foyer there was a buzz happening already with
every one talking to each other. The “Holy
Awe” that the Sacred Heart Church contained and produced was definitely not
there! There was a friendly happiness
and a different atmosphere.

I can see why most Catholics would have a dickens of a time
walking into the Protestant church and specially the Evangelical churches.
These people are all about speaking with each other and connecting big time. It
seemed that there were good friends meeting good friends that had known each
other for years – which was likely true.

The first person I met when I walked through the door was a man I
knew from the Small Business Network that I attend in our community. He and his
wife operate a Bed and Breakfast not far from Peterborough. Sadly they took him
out of the foyer and into an ambulance not long before the service began.

All the songs I knew – except one. I could sing along with these
folks.

The pastor’s 35+ minutes were in a fairly big contrast to the
priest’s sermon at Sacred Heart at 9 minutes. They both spoke about Jesus being
our Shepherd, and explained themselves very well.

It took Pastor Mark Bebbington a little longer to get to the
end. But hey I am a Pentecostal and
understand how much a person can try to say before you lose them. Tongue in my
cheek at this point… not fair to compare I know!

I had moved from the stately, magnificence of the Roman Catholic
Church to the warm fuzzies of a modern little church that you feel surrounded
by people that are hand shakers and like to talk before the service starts.

God was there too… not more there… just there… the same as He was
at the Sacred Heart Church.

Someone told me one time that you judge a church by what happens
to you AFTER YOU LEAVE THE PLACE. That
is happening to me today. I can’t stop thinking about the two churches. Something
happened in me yesterday that is deep.

My wife and I started our Saturday by attending our adopted grandson’s
support breakfast for his baseball team at a local restaurant. The young boys
on the team served us. What fun.

From there we moved quickly over to the Home Depot, the Temple of
Saturday Morning home worship.

From there I went over to a local Hockey Arena to take part on an
afternoon of discussion about the promotion and development of culture in our
community. It was a three hour, Saturday
afternoon meeting.

It is at this point I will try to bring you into the spot next to
me at the table.

The room had approximately 60 people from the creative community
of Peterborough and area. A number of
great artists, actors, with crafts of all kinds, as well as several guilds
being represented. Together with these
folks was a mix of the City of Peterborough staff from a few different
departments.

And finally there were two City of Peterborough Councilors, the
political people.

Not to say that everyone else around the table was not political
in some way or other! You should have
heard the comments in the discussion groups!!

I had heard about this meeting only hours before and thought that
it would be a good time to get a closer to look at the Creative Community of Peterborough.

Slipping into the seat that I occupied was like putting on an old
shoe. I had been involved in the arts communities of different cities we have
lived in. I was back at the discussion again
of how we might better bring awareness to our community as a whole of the “cultural”
things that we know. How we might better share our individual creations or talent/ability
with a world that doesn’t know about the “culture” of our city and area.

What does that word “culture” really mean anyway?

In our setting yesterday it meant acting, drama, music of all
kinds, concerts, art shows and artists and anything to do with the finer kinds
of artistic things.

Having said that I cannot begin to really explain what the unusual
collection of people around my table alone was like. But let’s try…

There were two or three dramatic artists at the table. One had been involved in the theatre promotional
end of things for a number of years. Others
were actors and/or producers.

One lady was from the Fiber Arts group, a spinner and weaver I
think.

A nice lady beside her sang in a church choir and was a knitter.

One fellow is a major musician, promoter and a newspaper editor of
newspaper he started when other newspapers wouldn’t help promote the upcoming
concerts in the area.

There was an Anthropologist sitting across from me that had lived
all around the world doing anthropological things in about 25 different
countries… but now retired he has become a sculptor.

The Choir lady was on my right. To my left was a young lady from
the National Gallery of Canada that is in our city to study this summer. And
beside her was another young lady that does fine art with her stitchery.

Our group was led by the Peterborough Art Gallery’s Director.

Whoa! That was just one table of six tables in the room that were
set abuzz with the discussion that followed.

What an afternoon of words.

One thing that came from the discussion was the fact that we live
in a Hockey Town. It is a place where on the “Holy Night” is Thursday when the “Peterborough
Petes” play their home game. About 3000
or less people attend the hockey game at the Memorial Arena and that fact shuts
down many activities. As the Choir lady stated, “You can’t have Choir Practice
on Thursday nights!”

As I left the meeting I was sure of one thing, that much work and
effort would be needed to put into the effort to be given by the newly formed culture
committee.

The brain storming session of the afternoon was quite stimulating
to say the least.

But it was not as stimulating as the walk home from the arena!

Remembering again this is Saturday afternoon. And also pointing
out that in this “culture promotion meeting” I have a hundred million thoughts
in my head about what has been said.

I walked down a small street that is kind of tucked back into an
area that few people travel on. In fact it is like a dead end place with a
number of small business plugged into old buildings. This is just across the railway tracks behind
the hockey arena.

It was Saturday afternoon, but the streets were full of vehicles
of all sorts! Something big was happening
somewhere in the complex of the buildings. What could it be?

In the lower level there seemed to be something major taking
place. Some folks were outside for their
smoke breaks. Others were pouring in and out of the one door on the lower level. Something inside was noisy and action packed,
filled with powerful music that sounded like thunder from the street.

It couldn’t be a wedding!?
It couldn’t be an auction? What was it? I had lived in this small part
of our community for 14 years. I had walked by this place dozens of times… but
had never noticed what was taking place.

Are you ready for what was taking place inside? I wasn’t!

There in the middle of the room was a Boxing Ring and in the ring
were two young men pounding the daylights out of each other. The bright lights on the ring together with
the low ceiling and the seats packed with screaming (and I mean SCREAMING) fans,
was like a wall of horror that hit me!!!!

At the same time my ears were assaulted by the music that filled
the room with the deep beat… between bouts!

I was like a bug drawn to the light. I couldn’t move. I was
standing near the main pole ring side… just behind the Red Corner… with the
audience packed into very full chairs to my left. The person ringing the bell for the start and
finish to each round was to my right.

Blood was flowing from the nostrils of one fighter as solid
punches were landed by the other dude. Pop. Thud. Umph. Ugh. Ohhh… came from
the ring. Screams from the ladies in the
audience were profuse… giving instructions to their sons, boyfriends, friends
in the ring how to better kill the other guy!

These words will not convey the sense of utter amazement that I
felt at that moment!

I had just come from the “culture” meeting of fine artists,
actors, drama type people, the Choir lady, the weavers and knitters, the musical
people which included the symphony to rock and roll dudes… to the Peterborough
Boxing Club’s major fight afternoon… with young men from all over the area
taking part to pound the crap out of each other.

By 5 PM my brain was feeling like I had been in the ring. I was
over stimulated emotionally, physically and mentally.

I write this to try and unload some of what I saw and felt and
experienced at the deepest level of my life – all one day of retirement.

I had been overloaded with the “culture” of my Peterborough.

One of the ladies in the afternoon meeting had complained that the
word “culture” has no meaning. It should be more like, arts, creativity, or
talents and abilities – she had suggested.

As I walked away from the Boxing arena I wondered how this culture
would ever meet or understand the culture just across the railway tracks – less
than 200 feet away.

Dear Mr. Stephen Harper, Prime Minister of
Canada – it has started again and I hate it!

Yesterday at dinner time another stupid call came from your
Conservative Party of Canada.The young
man calling was not an original English speaker… with his slight accent it was
evident that he was either not in Canada or was a recent recruit to your
Conservative Party work place.

I listened to his “Schlemiel! Schlimazel! Hasenpfeffer”.

Schlemiel! Schlimazel! Hasenpfeffer? Yep – that was it.

This young fellow was reading from a script and trying his
hardest to make it sound like he was sincere in what he was saying.

After identifying himself and telling me that he was calling
on behalf of the Conservative Party of Canada he proceeded to tell me buckets
of stuff about Monsieur Thomas Mulcair and what wretched person he was. His
message stated that Mulcair was about to raise the Carbon Tax or place one on
us… that dirty rotten Mulcair!And when
Mulcair gets away with this our Gasoline Tax and Price will rise yet again.

And he indicated that MULCAIR is a rotten idiot that I should be
frightened of and about and because of and whatever.

What a bunch of Alberta Male Bovine Used Alfalfa!!!Where do your Conservative Party of Canada folks
dig this crap up?

I let the young man from the offshore calling service… or the
downtown protesting student riots… say his whole ditty.

Then I asked him if he personally was a Conservative or if he
worked for the Conservative Party of Canada.The poor guy sputtered a little and said that he was working for a call
agencies of some sort.

I have to confess that I was plain ole riled up by this stage.
After tearing down Thomas Mulcair the way your message did… I was angry… really
angry. I was still angry over the way that your Party was hacking at Bob Rae
and what an idiot he is in his role as a flip flopper – you know NDP now
Liberal.

But now, 3 years plus away from a horrific possibility that Thomas
Mulcair might become our next Prime Minister – your planners are now telling me
to worry about a Carbon Tax and Higher Gas prices!???!

In case you have noticed – the GAS PRICES are rising under YOUR
ADMINISTRATION – YOU are the Prime Minister that is doing nothing about it at
all!It isn’t Mulcair – it is you.

The caller yesterday pointed out to me that Mulcair was dangerous
and should not be trusted.It was bad
timing – many of us can’t trust the present Government for almost everything.

Many of my friends are about to lose their jobs because of the decisions
you and your Government Leaders have made.And I wouldn’t trust anything that is happening now by you folks.
Mulcair is small peanuts!

I told the young man on the telephone that I don’t trust you or
your Government… and that many of my friends were about to lose their jobs. He
asked what area that would be in (HEY he was listening!).

He sputtered a little and said, “So from what you said I guess you
will not be making a Donation to the Conservative Party of Canada?”

I laughed out loud – (sorry young fellow…) what a funny thing to
ask.Tear Mulcair down… tell me how horrible
he is and then ask me for money!What a
bunch of Alberta Male Bovine Used Alfalfa!!!!!

I said earlier that what the young fellow said was “Schlemiel! Schlimazel!
Hasenpfeffer”. What is that?Here it is…

Schlemiel! Schlimazel!
Hasenpfeffer

At the start of each TV episode, Laverne and Shirley are seen
skipping down the street, arm in arm, reciting a Yiddish-American hopscotch
chant: "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 Schlemiel! Schlimazel! Hasenpfeffer
Incorporated!" This then leads into the series' theme song which is
entitled "Making Our Dreams Come True" and is performed by Cyndi
Grecco.

Hasenpfeffer (also spelled hasenfeffer) is a
traditional German stew made from marinated rabbit or hare. Pfeffer is not only
the name of a spice, but also of adishwhere the animal's blood is used as a gelling agent for the
sauce.

Yep – what your party organizers and planners are offering
Canadians now is pure “Schlemiel! Schlimazel! Hasenpfeffer”. That is inept clumsy
person; a bungler; a dolt; chronically unlucky person; slim 'crooked'; 'luck';
producing a a traditional German stew made from marinated rabbit or hare; seasoned
with Pfeffer; but also with the animal's blood is used as a gelling agent for
the sauce.

Why does it make so angry?Why does it make so many of us Canadians angry?

Well it’s a simple answer.YOU and the Conservative Party of Canada think we are stupid. You really
do. No?You say you don’t?Well why call and tell me what a lowly
opposition leader is planning to do three years from now… not now… when you are
the Prime Minister of Canada!He can do
nothing now with your ultimate power and control factor – You HAVE A MAJORITY!

Yep! You offer “Schlemiel! Schlimazel!
Hasenpfeffer”.

Please stop calling.. please.. please – at least give me
three years of no calls!

“Smooth” is the best word I can use to describe the sound of “Java
Jive”. Java Jive performed last evening
at the Royal Gardens (Retirement Residence) in Peterborough, Ontario. Very smooth.

Three gentlemen shared their vocals while one fellow played an
amazing guitar. They were engaging to
say the least. What style and what
sound!

Java Jive last night took me back to days before I was born… and
different times since I was born – but do not remember. They “crooned”. So very different than most music that I hear
today.

Right now the Musical Background at McDonald’s Restaurant is all
pop… very pop… rock and roll mixed with the very popular music of today. It is
so different from the grace of the Java Jive group of last evening.

As I sat listening to these guys sing last night I was drawing
parallels in my mind and contrasts. I was trying to find where I fit in this
great spectrum of sound.

I grew up on Rock and Roll.. noisy and with a great beat.. a deep
beat. I listened to Western Music for a
long time until the stories of the old songs were all memorized and there was
nothing more to learn from them.

I also listened to church music. It was generally from a Hymn Book
but could also be from memorization.
Then it changed rapidly in recent times and it is on a screen now – very
seldom memorized because it changes too quickly… with so much new to take in.

Now my age has nothing to do with it! How dare you think that!!!

It is too much to shift all the time.

Yet as I listened to Java Jive last evening I realized how far we
have come from the “crooning” days. The
slow, mellow, soft, suggestive, plaintive, pleading of the old songs – is amazing.
It is so far from the stuff that is on all the time now.

I walked into my friend’s workshop the other day. What a
shock! He had music on that was from a
Classical Station! Imagine! My rock and
roll in my garage makes me embarrassed to say the least. But my friend makes better wood working than
I do!! So his music needs to be better as well… I guess.

As I have been reflecting on this thought of musical differences
and preferences I smile. So much has changed in me.

Not long ago my three grandsons were in my vehicle with me. I had
some cool beat on the radio. As I looked at the grandson beside me his head was
moving rhythmically to the beat. He likes the same stuff as I do! Too cool.

But with the lack of variety today.. he may never know what a
crooner is… and as far as sitting through a slow, smooth and gentle sound that
is filled with harmonizing… he will never know what that is about.

The Java Jive was performing to an audience of very old people…
that were young when these songs were sung.

Fast forward the time and have me sitting where the seniors are
sitting now.. the music will not be smooth – but rather Bump, Bump, Bump –
Thump Thump Thump wooo a wooo a uh!

As I carried the piece of wood into the shop of my fellow
craftsman I didn’t want to give it up.Yet I had no use for the old wood anymore.I had handled it for the past few weeks now
it was time to let it go.

Yet I had put so much of myself into it and looked at every bit of
the surface so often I had memorized the thing from top to bottom, left to
right.

About 75 years ago it had been placed into someone’s old house
from what I determined when I bought it in Bracebridge, Ontario.It had been taken out of the old house when
renovations were being done on that old place.

For all these years it had served as a door frame in that old
place. The little ones of the family had run around that old place and knocked
against the door frame often, the adults had leaned on it as they shared in the
family experience, and it had been a part of a lot of people’s lives.Many memories happened in and around that old
door frame.

When it was ripped out of the place where it had stood so sturdy
for so long it was destined for destruction.With the nail holes in it and the paint on the edges together with the
old varnish that had been applied to its top surface – it was good for nothing
anymore.

When I bought the mahogany door frame from the “Re-Store” of “Habitat
for Humanity” I saw the promise or the possibility in that old piece of
wood.Then the wood stood lifeless in my
garage for over two years more.

The call came asking if I was able to carve a “Clock Beard”.I did know that stage that Clocks had “Beards”.I had seen the intricate carving on the very
old clocks in the museums that we had visited over the years but never knew
what they we were called.

The craftsman that made the connection with me was Rob Brown of
Equinox Interiors (http://www.equinoxinteriors.ca/#/home
). Rob was building a clock
cabinet for Bill.His beautiful wood work
was in need of a carving to be done to complete the task at hand.

After meeting with Rob and Bill (the man who is having the clock
made) I set off back to Misty Hollow’s workshop to begin the planning for this
possible carving.

Using an original carving that Bill had of a Clock Beard from the
1800s I began to create a “Canadiana” kind of Beard for the new clock. This one
would have maple leaves on it.

The old piece of discarded wood is now going to be in the brand
new clock. It will stand sturdy and proudly somewhere in Canada – for years to
come.How about another 75 to 100 years.

( The Completed Beard - held in place - its future home)

What an adventure this has been!

I really didn’t want to give up that old piece of wood… sheesh!
But today I am celebrating the new opportunity for an old piece of wood.

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Misty Hollow Carving is the sponsor of this Blog. Misty Hollow began in 2008. This is some of "The Misty Hollow Story" and how the Northumberland Community Futures Development Corporation helped me. The Video was created by Chris Oliver of CCO Productions

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Murray Lincoln

The Wood Carver of Misty Hollow

About the Wood Carver of "Misty Hollow"

Murray launched Misty Hollow carving in 2008 after retiring as a Minister. Now besides working at his Misty Hollow Carving Shop he is also involved in a number of volunteer roles in the community. Contact Murray at murray.lincoln@gmail.com